


as a friend, as an old memory

by eleanna99



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:11:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4056169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleanna99/pseuds/eleanna99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'When Sirius heard the knock on the door, his instincts told him to run.'</p>
<p>Sirius has gone into hiding after escaping on Buckbeak's back and he certainly isn't expecting any visitors. But when an old friend knocks on his door, without a job or a home, the least he can do is let him stay the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as a friend, as an old memory

**Author's Note:**

> Based on:  
> http://www.buzzfeed.com/alannabennett/33-marauders-headcanons-that-will-melt-your-soul#.owZRGnJWPV
> 
> This list of headcanons made me cry and I couldn't help but write a story based on the most painful of them. I obviously don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe, apart from my unearthly emotional investment in this characters.

When Sirius heard the knock on the door, his instincts told him to run.

But it couldn’t be. After the initial panic he just stared at the door and tried to steady his breathing, convince himself that no harm could have found its way to that particular house. The house he once hated but had suddenly turned to the only place he could truly feel safe. It was, after all, the place he once called home.

And that meant that if someone had discovered it, it had to be a friend. And if he was lucky enough…

“Hello, Padfoot. May I come in?” his old friend greeted him as soon as he opened the door. Even though Remus had been through hell and back all those years and that was evident on his face, his eyes still possessed that glow Sirius remembered from his youth. He didn’t know the light had been replaced by despair coated by kindness for at least twelve years, since the day some called the end of the war, while for them it had been the end of the universe.

The last time they had seen each other, Remus was full of confusion and doubt and maybe a hint of hope, while Sirius was just twelve years of rage and planning for revenge. They hadn’t had the chance to talk and explain before everything collapsed once again.

But this was there chance. Sirius was thought to be a fugitive from justice, the most lethal criminal the world had seen in a long time and the first prisoner to escape from Azkaban; Remus on the other hand was just an newly unemployed teacher, a stigmatized werewolf who had had everything torn from him, but was still standing. They were in a house whose original owners would consider them both disgraces and abominations and yet it was in that house’s hall that they collapsed into each other’s arms, not really sure who was holding who, and even though they could only dream the circumstances were different, they were thankful to even be able to have that moment. To have each other, after all that time of thinking that everything was lost.

* * *

 

“How did you know where to find me?” Sirius asked after Remus had left his luggage in a room –the same guest room as Sirius, even though there were so many empty ones in the house for both of them- and they were both sitting in the kitchen, some bread and cheese and dried fruit playing the part of their dinner on the table between them.

“I knew you well enough to understand you would choose to hide in plain sight and I remembered you talking about Grimmauld Place- how much you hated this place and how well protected against unwanted visitors it was… it only made sense that you’d come here,” Remus explained, his eyes focused on the slice of bread he was cutting the crust off, maybe a little too cautiously.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Sirius replied, but obviously only half-heartedly. “It’s too dangerous to be with me, at least until I find a way to clear up my name.” He was lying back on his chair, his feet on the table, trying to come off as relaxed even though he wasn’t in the least.

“Shut up,” his friend replied and looked up at him, forcing him to hide his smile. That was the Remus he remembered; always so calm and collected around everyone, because the slightest shout or indication of anger would make people think that of course, all the good boy attitude was just a façade and nothing could tame the monster inside. It had turned into a way to understand if he was comfortable, whether or not he could be blunt and rude without caring and that meant that they hadn’t turned into complete strangers, even after all that had happened. “It’s not like I had anywhere else to go.”

“You could stay at Hogwarts. You’d have Dumbledore and McGonagall and all the others to keep you company. I mean, you’d have to put up with Snape for a little longer, but I’m pretty sure he also leaves at some point in the summer.”

“Sirius, I don’t work at Hogwarts anymore,” was all he said and they both fell silent.

“They fired you?! How dare they, you were the best thing that happened-”

“I quit,” he cut him off. “My… condition became known and I could feel the complaint letters coming, parents refusing to send their children back next year… I couldn’t do that, not to Dumbledore, not to Hogwarts.”

The man across from him just sighed, knowing that there was nothing he could say, knowing how much Remus felt as if he had failed Dumbledore’s trust by creating the Map and that he couldn’t do that again.

“Go to bed,” he told him, seeing him yawn and how tired his eyes looked even though the full moon was at least a week away.

“No way. There’s way too much to talk about.”

“And they will mean nothing if you fall asleep on the table halfway through. We’ll talk tomorrow- it’s not like I have anywhere to go,” he half-joked and gave him a reassuring smile.

Remus smiled himself as he stood up, thinking that maybe his friend was right. If they talked about everything in one night, it would be as if they were running out of time, something he refused to even think about, not now that things had taken that unexpected turn. So he just went to bed, the thought that they would both be there in the morning helping him fall fast asleep.

* * *

 

They didn’t have to wait until the morning.

“Please tell me you discovered my mother’s hidden firewhiskey cabinet, I’ve been looking for that thing for years.”

Remus laughed wearily and took another sip from the cup in front of him. He swallowed hard with his eyes closed and his lips pursed, before explaining. “Wolfsbane. Professor Snape, in an exceptionally good mood after the news of my departure, was kind enough to provide me with a few last flasks,” he said, as a look of disgust took over his face. “But I have a feeling he was way too generous with aconite this time; this thing burns way worse than firewhisky and it certainly lacks the feeling of warmth and sudden courage.”

“Well, I can’t let you drink alone,” Sirius said and after taking a half-empty bottle of red currant rum out of the cupboard next to him, collapsed in the chair across his friend, claiming their earlier spots once again. “Why aren’t you sleeping, Remus?”

“Do you want the truth?” he said, although his eyes indicated that he had already given up, that for once he himself wanted to speak the truth without being afraid of the judgment that usually followed, because he knew Sirius was the last person who would make fun or be scared of him.

“Of course.”

“It’s your fault,” he snapped and he could see that his friend was confused, hurt and slightly insulted at the same time. “Not really though. You don’t do it deliberately. Just let me explain,” he stopped the unnecessary rambling and raised his cup, but didn’t drink. “You know I have enhanced senses, it got us out of trouble quite a lot of times,” he began, a small smile finally lighting up his features.

“And you never failed to mention that I always smelled like a wet dog, yes, I’m quite familiar with that quality of yours,” he nodded and they both laughed.

“What I’m saying is that, probably without wanting to, I used my hearing to feel safe. At first I did it just to know when danger was coming, but then I came to Hogwarts and I met you guys and there was Voldemort and the war and people dying and disappearing… so I started counting your breaths.” He paused to see how he would react and when Sirius didn’t even blink but stayed completely focused on his words, he continued. “In the dorms every night, I heard you and the other two breathing and it was a way of making sure that you were okay… and of course that I was with you, which meant I was okay as well.”

“So what’s the problem with my breath now?” he asked seriously and raised his glass to his lips only to find out it was empty. He filled it all the way up again, patiently expecting an explanation.

“At this very moment it’s that it stinks of alcohol,” Remus joked but took the bottle away from him anyway. “Well, then we left Hogwarts, but I barely ever slept in a house alone. I spent my nights at your house, or at James and Lily’s, so there was always someone around and I always had something to focus on before I fell asleep. And then Harry was born and remember how I always insisted I sleep in his room?” he asked, rubbing his eyes which were more bloodshot than earlier that day. “I just wanted to make sure he was okay, I had almost turned obsessive over it.”

His wolfsbane was over, but that didn’t stop him. He grabbed the bottle he had taken from Sirius and filled his cup with rum instead, taking a long sip and welcoming the burn that didn’t feel like poison.

“And then that night came. And the breathing suddenly stopped. I had no one. James and Lily were gone, and Peter, at least that’s what I thought. Harry was taken away to live with muggles and you were in prison. It almost drove me crazy, but after some point I just accepted it. That was my way of life, me, alone. No breaths. So tonight, the sound that once made me feel safe and secure, suddenly made me think I was in danger.”

Sirius was left speechless. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. Instead, he reached out and gently squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “You know you’re safe here, right?” was all he managed to ask. He was so tired of people thinking he was a criminal, someone they should stay away from no matter what the cost. He couldn’t stand the thought of his best friend –the friend he had been separated from for so many years- feeling in peril around him.

“Of course I do,” Remus replied honestly. He took a deep breath, another gulp of rum, ran his hands over his face one last time and turned back to him. “So that’s my story. What is yours?”

“What do you mean?” Sirius replied, trying to sound clueless.

“Please, don’t tell me you’re awake because you saw I wasn’t in bed and came to check up on me,” Remus said and Sirius looked away, indicating that this was exactly the excuse he was planning on using. “I just told you I could hear your breathing. It barely ever got steady. You’re having nightmares.”

He looked away and didn’t speak a word, suddenly interested in the wood pattern of the table in front of him.

“Sirius, you were in Azkaban. With all the dementors… it’s only logical. Talk to me.”

“Do you want the truth?” he repeated the question which had been originally meant for him and they both chuckled in all their tipsiness and painful reminiscing.

“Of course,” was the answer once again.

“The dementors weren’t that bad.”

Remus looked at him in confusion. “But you… in the Shack. When I told you to wait because Harry deserved to know the truth you said that you’ve had enough of it-”

“Twelve years, in Azkaban. Yes, I remember. You thought I was talking about the dementors, didn’t you?” Remus just shrugged, thinking it was obvious. “Let me tell you a secret, Moony. Dementors feed on your happiness; if you have none of it left in you, they can’t really harm you,” and his voice sounded darker than ever before.

“Come on now, that can’t be true,” Remus said, but the tone in his friend’s voice had truly haunted him.

“But it is. I was in that bloody cell for more than four thousand days and those cloaked bastards were never my biggest trouble. My main problem was that I was stranded in the most secure prison of the world on an island in the middle of nowhere, while that filthy rat still walked the earth, everyone thinking he was the victim, mourning for his unjust murder by me, the traitor.” His voice was pure poison now, those thousand days of anger pouring into it in full force. “So I decided to spend my countless hours in there plotting my escape and my revenge. The entirely just murder that I never got the chance of committing.”

It felt relieving to have all of that off his chest, but he didn’t expect Remus to reply. And certainly not with so much certainty in his voice.

“You couldn’t have killed him. I truly believe that, just as I could never really believe that you betrayed James and Lily. You’re too good a person,” he said, but didn’t dare to look him in the eyes, playing with the last few drops of his drink in the bottom of his glass instead.

“I was twenty-one!” Sirius snapped, his hand slamming on the table. “I was twenty-one and I walked into their house to see my best friend lying lifeless in the corridor,” his voice broke and a sob escaped his lips, but he continued, “and his wife, one of the best people I had ever met, dead in front of a crib. And even then, when I had seen my world crumble to pieces just by going up a few stairs, I hadn’t given up.” He wiped his cheeks that had been stained with tears and god, it felt good to cry, he hadn’t cried in years. As soon as he had gotten to his family home he had washed up, trying to clean off the prison filth, but those tears seemed to be what was needed to finally clean his soul a little bit after everything he had been through. “I hadn’t given up, because I looked up and there was that precious little thing crying in his little bed, his eyes staring at me as if asking what was going on. And I was never a responsible person, you know that, but in that moment I was ready. I was ready to take him with me and take on everything that a baby came with. Because he was worth it and I owed it to James and to Lily and _it was my fault_.” His breathing had turned unsteady once again and Remus moved his chair closer to his, his hand placed gently on his back.

“Sirius, I’m sorry, you don’t have to-”

“Then Hagrid came and he took him from me. Dumbledore’s orders, he said,” he was whispering now, but his tone transferred as much despair as if he was yelling. “And all I could do was give him my motorbike and watch him fly away, along with all my hope. That’s when I gave up.” He took his eyes away from his hand which was shaking violently on the table and turned to look at his friend, not even bothering to wipe away his tears anymore. “So don’t tell me I couldn’t do it.” Begging more than ordering. “Because he took everything away from me. I was twenty-one, Remus.”

Remus pulled him closer and felt his tears soak his shirt, but he didn’t care and he wasn’t planning on letting him go until his back stopped shaking with silent sobs. “I know,” Remus whispered, “I know.” Sirius was the one who pulled away after all and ran a his hands through his hair, messing it up even more, but no words came out of his mouth.

“I know, Sirius, but I still think you wouldn’t be able to kill him and- please, listen to me,” he begged when his friend turned his head away. “I’m sure, because we are alike, you and me. And I wanted to kill you.” That was enough to make him look back at him. “Not after what Peter did, no. But just a few months ago, when I found out you had been lurking around the castle. I didn’t drink all my wolfsbane potion that week,” he admitted and looked down at his open palms with shame, “because I knew that would be the only way to carry on with my plan. And if I did it, who could blame me? Everyone called me a monster behind my back and all that effort to convince them that that was not the case… maybe it was time to just prove them right.”

“You’re not a monster, Remus,” Sirius said, despite his exhaustion after everything he had confessed, as if it was his instinct to always remind that fact to the other man, whenever he had any doubt, no matter what. And it was one of his secret fears, as well as a secret wish all those years in Azkaban. Whenever he could see the full moon behind the bars of his prison cell, he let his mind wander off his revenge plans for a few seconds; not enough for memories to come flooding into his mind, a fresh and tasty meal for the dementors, but enough to hope that his friend was okay, even though he was alone. That he hadn’t let himself believe that his condition defined who he was, that he wasn’t just an accident that took place when he was a kid.

“You know, the only reason I didn’t let that thought swallow me whole was because of you and James and Lily and even Peter, before everything he did. I had people around me who loved me and didn’t just tell me I was good for me to hear it; they did it because they truly believed it,” he said and even now the fondness in his voice was evident. “And then that was stripped away from me. I was twenty-one as well, Sirius. I spent twelve years thinking you had betrayed James and Lily and then killed Peter as well as twelve innocent people. I lost everyone who could ever convince me that I was worth anything. And on my way to Hogwarts as a teacher, the first good thing to happen to me in a very long while, I woke up to save a child from a dementor who was after you and for a second I truly thought that child was James and maybe I had fallen asleep on the Express on our ride home after graduation and everything after that had been a really bad dream.” He didn’t even look angry, just like he had utterly given up, tired and finally letting out things that he had kept inside for so long because there was no one to talk to. “But it wasn’t a dream, because that kid wasn’t James and he will spend all his life calling me ‘professor Lupin’ instead of ‘uncle Moony’ and that’s so unfair, for everyone.” They were now both staring at each other, the familiar presence the only thing able to melt the pain that had frozen inside them and let it all flow out. “And I went to the funeral alone. So do not tell me that that was not enough to turn even the greatest man into a monster.”

“But you still think you wouldn’t have been able to kill me?” Sirius whispered, trying to be as soft as Remus had been just minutes before, when he was the one spilling out his heart.

“Yes, I am sure of it,” he shrugged in resignation. “For the same reason you would not kill Peter or fight me back if I ever attacked you. Because just the thought of seeing you again, even if it was to spit on you and slap you and yell at you, caused me more joy than rage and yearning to tear you apart at sight. Because when we face a monster, we will always try to see the human there once was beneath all that.”

“And that’s what makes us weak in the face of danger,” Sirius stated firmly.

“And that’s what makes us human in the face of injustice,” Remus replied and stood up, placing his empty glass in the sink, indicating that the conversation was over. “I’ll go find a vacant room. Goodnight, Padfoot.” His chest felt lighter and he truly hoped his friend wasn’t mad at him for all he had said that night, because for him it had only been beneficial, more than any other confession.

“See you tomorrow, Moony,” Sirius said, and that was all he needed.


End file.
